Personal Narrative: Moving To America

The plane took off and were in the air leaving the place I had only ever known. I remember when my parents told me and my two brothers that we would be moving to the United states. At the time I didn’t know where we would end up or how we were even getting there. All I knew was I would be in a totally different landscape with a lot of ethnically different people whom I have never met or seen before.

Since the moment my oldest brothers moved to the United States my family knew we could not be apart from each other. Four years past, enough time to finally go start a new life with my brothers in the U.S. In between those four years I was born, my sisters would always talk about my unknown brother to me. Then they told me we were going to move. I was barely two years when we came to the U.S. It was February 25, 2004 when we said goodbye to my grandparents, mom and dads family. It was a long ride from Mexico City to Nogales, when we arrived in Nogales my brothers friend, Alejandro was waiting for us in a minivan. Alejandro told us that the toughest part was coming. He said we had to split up, my sisters and dad was going to walk through the

Coming to the United States was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was born in Dagahaley, Kenya where I lived for fourteen years. My family and I had to go through a lot to get to the United States. Most people wanted to come to the United States because life is better here then it is there. You have to be lucky to get picked and we were fortunate to be able to move to the United States. After you get picked you have to go through multiple tests over the course of about eight to nine months. If you pass the test you get to go, but if you do not than you had to stay back in Africa and would not have another chance. When I first heard we were going to America I was so excited and everything, but then it hit me and thought about it what

The year of 2014 late summer I came to America with dreams and hopes, expecting the better for me and my family. I have family that had came before me; however they weren't that respectful for someone that had been living in Mexico their whole life. I used to get put down by the way I looked, talked or how I acted. I recall that they would talk in english about me , and make fun of me , so I wouldn’t understand what they were saying. I have cousins that don't even appreciate all the sacrifices that one as a parent has to make , so they are able to give a better life for their kids. On the good side of the story I would always keep in mind how I came here? thanks to who?and why?. So I realize that I fitted in the Hispanic community by attending to Hispanic events, playing soccer, and cooking hispanic food.

It’s been a little over a month since I got to America from Mexico. I live in New York City now. It’s nothing as I expected it to be people in the city are very rude, one day I was walking to work which is a clothing factory a teenage boy, who looked very wealthy told me, “go back where you come from” and “you don’t belong here.” That’s when I met the nicest woman I have ever met, her name’s Jane. She saw everything that happened, she knew I was scared of the boy and that’s when she gave me this flyer. She told me to come to her organization meeting at this church where she would help me adjust to New York. Surprisingly, the meeting was during a time I didn’t work and I heard a couple of the girls that I work with chatting about it. So, I

My mother gave me this book to write in before I left my entire family behind in Chiapas, Mexico. She told me not to be afraid and to write whenever I am feeling upset, anxious, or angry. I haven’t wanted to write this stuff down, but I do not want to say it out loud either. I moved to America last year to stay with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Brooklyn, New York; I was twelve then and perhaps very naive about what my life would be like in America. I didn’t know any English, but my parents told me that coming to America would help me become smarter. Better even. Unfortunately, America is not what I thought it would be and in recent times, the President is even threatening to make us leave. In Mexico, I felt that I had such an amazing life, where I was able to run around and be free. But here, I am stuck between four walls in a small one bed-room apartment. In the land of opportunity, I feel that I have none.

Most students don’t spend tons of time trying to memorize vocabularies, but I do, and i have been doing that for many years now. I have a normal family with parents that love me a lot, we go on to vacations if we have spare time. My new life started when my mom and dad decided to move to America in order for me to get a better education, and mostly did not want me to experience those harsh studying in China. I came to America when I was in fourth grade, and everything was really different from the world I used to be in, the environment, school, and people around me. I felt really uncomfortable at first but I quickly adapted the situation.

I couldn’t believe the day had come, I was moving to America! For me, this was going to be a whole new experience and a life-changing event. Truth be told, I did not know what to expect, and on what is going to happen next.

When I came to America for the first time, I was very rebellious, and I did not uphold the wisdom of making myself a better person. There I was, looking into the world having no idea what would be in store for me. But I always had a spirit for knowledge and curiosity.

Three months ago I was studying my last moments of high school in Mexico. I had already planned the university I was going to and the major I wanted to course. Everything was happening really fast when my father told my mother and I that he had a job opportunity in the United States. He didn't wish to force us to go with him, although we did accept to leave because both of us consider that the most valuable thing in this world is family.

I'm in a small small town named Grosselec Poland in the year 1920. I am in the town square, people are bustling about. There are many shops selling food, clothes and a few selling jewelry. I look over to see a woman walking with her three daughter to the grocery store. I follow them inside to hear the owner say, “Hello Jetti how are Rachella, Sylvia and Esther? Any word from Jacob?” This is my great great grandma, my Mom's, Dad's, Mom's, Mom, Jetti Teidor. She responds, “They are doing fine, now word though, I am starting to think that it is time for us to move to America.” After they leave I follow them home. Jetti opens the door, walks to the small kitchen and starts to make dinner.

When you hear me speak, you’d never guess that I’ve lived anywhere accept the United States. However, my current accent wasn’t always the case. My older sister and I have had the privilege of moving every couple years since we were born due to my mother’s job. Her job has taken us to countries far as England, Finland and France but also as close as California, Nevada, Maryland and finally and most loved, Kentucky. On August 8th, 2000, I was born to Susan and Bill Macke in Wellington Florida. By my first birthday, we were in the process of moving to Birmingham, England. And that’s where my global adventure began. My childhood was that of a European instead of an American child. We were fortunate enough to be able to take the train to Rome or

Imagine a happy place where everything was all right in the world. You have a loving family and loving friends whom you get you play with all day long until you get tired. Now, imagine that happy place being taken away from you, all in one day. That’s how I felt when I found out I was moving away from my family and friends. When I was young, I did not understand why I had to move away to a place that was completely foreign and unfamiliar. I can still remember the frustration and disbelief I felt when I was told I was moving from Philippines all they way across the world to the United States of America. I cried, I kicked, and I fussed hoping that would make a difference but it did not. It didn’t matter how I felt or whether I understood the reason, because I was moving either way. Moving from Philippines to America was a challenge for me because of the language, I had trouble fitting in and I struggled to make friends.

I remember when I first moved to America. I remember how scared I was to move to a whole new country and didn’t know a soul within 400 miles of me. Everything was brand new and I was basically a newborn child in this world at the age of 4. I remember how we met, we bonded over the sport of soccer. I remember how we became the best of friends, and how we would carpool to Pre-K together. Then, she had a game for her church. I remember it was freezing because it was early January. She scored a goal right before half time, and then was taken off for the rest of the game. I remember seeing her panting on the bench, then I saw her lie down the bench. I figured she was tired, but then I saw her convulsing on the bench. I didn’t even realize what

Last years, I was in Iraq, in Baghdad, in my house with my mom and sister. It was a beautiful weather, when the phone rang and my mom answered, immediately the smile became on her face when she heard we would travel to another country. After the phone closed, she came to us and said,¨we will finally travel to United States,let us go to prepare the backpacks, we do not have more time to waste¨these news were amazing, but I became sad that we left my cousin, my friend in Iraq. Next, we prepare to go to the pline, we moved in pline to Ardon, then to Germany, and then to United States. It was a fun trip in airport and also a tired one. Then,